


Jean's Secret

by Slice_of_Apple



Series: parenthood [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A little bit of makeup, Adorable Eren Jaeger, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying so much bloody crying wtf, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, Mpreg, No real smut more the happy memory of prior smut, Not A/B/O dynamics, Pretty Jean Kirstein, Romance, Sad Jean Kirstein, Sexy Jean Kirstein, Slow Burn, all about the romance, feelings so many bloody feelings wtf, gaping hole in plot as to how to make mpreg even slightly realistic but you gotta just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: Eren Jaeger runs into ex-boyfriend Jean Kirstein. Jean has a big secret.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Series: parenthood [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026835
Comments: 13
Kudos: 124





	Jean's Secret

“Jesus Christ, Eren, what the hell are _you_ doing here?”

  
“It’s nice to see you, too,” says Eren, laughing.

The fact is, it _is_ nice to see Eren, to look at his beautiful face. Eren has always been a place Jean can easily get lost in. But Jean doesn’t have the time or inclination to get lost there anymore.

“Sorry, Eren, gotta go. Catch you later, OK?” And Jean is gone down the street before Eren can stop him.

That was weird. That was really weird. Eren hadn’t exactly expected Jean to greet him with open arms, but he had been kind of thinking, actually, hoping, if he is honest with himself, that Jean might be a tiny bit happy to see him again, too. Instead, Jean looks freaked out. More freaked out than might be expected from merely laying eyes on an ex-boyfriend. Intrigued, Eren skips after Jean. Jean is walking down the street, shoulders hunched, head forward, his body tense. Eren is glad he’s keeping close to the buildings, mostly hidden, so when Jean turns back he doesn’t see Eren. Is Jean looking to see if Eren is following him? Feeling like a bumbling detective in a B movie, Eren watches carefully where Jean turns, then hastens to follow.

Jean makes a quick right, then another, doubling back until he is now in the back of the building where Eren had first seen him. What is Jean doing?

Eren looks more closely at the building. Going into a church? Has Jean found _religion_?

“Thanks so much, Mrs. Beaufort.” 

Jean is walking out of the door of a room, but he now has something- some _one_ , rather- in his arms. Someone small who is wearing diapers. Jean pauses at the cluster of strollers and separates one out, swinging it forwards.

“Uck!” booms a loud voice.

“You’ve got your truck, have you? Let’s have a look,” says Jean conversationally. Jean stops wrestling with the stroller as a fat hand holds out a small toy truck for Jean to admire. When the truck has received sufficient attention, the child swings his body down, demanding loudly, “Awk.”

“Sorry, kiddo, we’re in kind of a hurry today.” Eren is puzzled. Is Jean doing some kind of babysitting job on top of his regular job?”

“Awk!” bawls the child even more loudly, squirming in Jean’s arms.

“Sweetheart, you can walk later, but first you gotta ride.”

  
“Awk! Awk!” cries the child desperately, hurling his sturdy body sideways in an attempt to escape the tyranny of being carried against his will.

Jean is plainly up to the task of handling the situation. He expertly manhandles the boy into the stroller and quickly buckles him in. Once locked in, the toddler is effectively neutralized. He seems to realize this, and lets out an enormous wail. This also does not appear to faze Jean in the least. He merely whips out a small container from a side pocket of his backpack and empties it onto the stroller tray.

“Oatios, Eric,” he says coaxingly.

The child immediately stops screaming. Plump fingers grab at the bits of cereal, spilling some on the ground.

Eren is stunned. Jean has a _kid_? There’s no other explanation for how Jean could have acquired these ninja kid skills. _Shit_ , is Jean with _someone else?_ Is he _married_? Is Eren _too late_?

Eren is so stunned by these possibilities that he doesn’t move out of the way as Jean barrels down the corridor. Jean is pushing the stroller with his hips as he leans forward to tuck a hat onto the toddler’s head. The wheel of the stroller hits Eren’s foot.

“Oh- sorry!” says Jean quickly to Eren’s foot, then looks up at Eren’s face. Jean stops abruptly, as though he’s been shot. He stands, staring at Eren, his mouth opening and closing, like he’s a fish out of water.

“ _Holy fuck_ , Jean. Do you have a kid?” asks Eren. This snaps Jean out of his deep freeze.

“Eren, watch your mouth,” Jean hisses. “He’s practically a _baby_ , for fuck’s sake!” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jean realizes what he’s said. His mouth sets into a grim line. He angrily swivels the stroller and stalks past Eren.

“Jean, wait!” says Eren, following him.

But Jean keeps on walking.

“Wait a minute!” Jean doesn’t wait. Eren wants to swing him around and punch some sense into him, but he realizes that isn’t the best idea he’s ever had, since they’re inside a church, not to mention right outside a day care. _Jean’s kid’s_ day care. Even saying this in his head scrambles his brains.

“Wait!” growls Eren. “I just want to talk.”

“I’m not talking with you until Eric is safely asleep, Mr. Potty Mouth!” Jean calls back firmly. Eren knows better than to try to plead with him. Jean can be an infuriatingly stubborn bastard. Instead, he trots along silently next to the stroller. He’s not letting Jean out of his sight.

Eren takes the time to surreptitiously check out Jean’s hands, which are conveniently clenched tightly around the stroller handle. No ring. Not married, then. Or engaged, apparently.

While they wait at a stop light, Eren steals another look at the toddler. He’s just stuffed a handful of cereal in his mouth, but he tips his head back curiously to peer at Eren. His eyebrows are drawn, and he has a look of deep suspicion on his face. He has silky-looking brown hair peeking out from under the hat, and enormous green eyes fringed with thick lashes.

Eren does a double take. Not too many people have eyes that color green. Jean certainly doesn’t.

Eren looks up to find that Jean has been watching him stare at Eric. Jean has a horrified expression on his face.

“Jean…” Eren says slowly, his brain now thoroughly fried.

The light changes, and Jean barrels forward, leaving a stunned Eren in the dust.

“Jean. Wait!” cries Eren weakly, once they’ve crossed the street. “Will you please slow down for just a second?”

Jean abruptly stops. He takes a deep breath, blows it out. “Eren, I would be happy to talk with you. Now just isn’t a great time. We’re walking home today, and I need to get going.”

“I’ll walk with you,” says Eren. His mind is a jumble of confused and whirling thoughts, but he can still walk.

They keep walking in silence, making several turns, until they hit what is clearly a more residential area. It is a bit run-down, but there is something pleasant about it. The street is lined with trees, and there small, shabby apartment buildings on either side. 

Jean stops in front of one of the apartment buildings and opens the gate. It looks like all the others, a square, somewhat dilapidated, two-story structure, with large windows.

“You… live here?” Eren asks, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. 

Jean doesn’t bother to reply. He opens one of the mail boxes, grabs the mail, then unlocks the gate, and backs in, rolling the stroller behind him. Eren barely catches the gate before it slams shut, squeezing himself in behind Jean.

Halfway down the path there is a stairway leading to the second floor apartments. 

Jean quickly sweeps the remaining bits of cereal into one hand and tosses them into the small trash can at the bottom of the stairs. Then, in a clearly practiced move, he hoists the stroller up into his arms and begins walking up the stairs.

Too late, Eren jumps forward, crying “Wait-let me- I can help.”

His words fell on deaf ears. Jean continues his steady march up the stairs. The boy – _Eric_ \- is clearly used to this treatment; he sucks happily on the bits of cereal that are still caked to his wet fingers. 

In front of one of the doors, Jean unbuckles and removes the toddler, smoothly folding up and leaning the stroller against the wall. He unlocks the door, and walks in. Eric is clutching onto his leg. After the dingy exterior, Eren is pleasantly surprised by the interior of the apartment. The walls are painted a bright white, and the late-day sun streams in through the windows. Posters of children’s book covers are tacked on the walls. It seems to be quite small, though; a tiny living room opening into a mini kitchen with a small table squeezed into it. Based on the layout of the building, that other door probably opens up into one small bedroom. Eren is secretly glad about the small size. He hopes this means there isn’t room for another adult male in the apartment. What a mess, though! Half-folded laundry is piled on the kitchen table, toy trucks and trains litter the floor, and the sink is stacked with dirty dishes.

Jeans automatically sidestep the toys on the floor. The boy grunts and lifts his arms up in a clear “pick me up” gesture, his eyes glancing uneasily at Eren.

“Sure, pumpkin, I know this guy is making you nervous,” says Jean soothingly as he reaches down and swings Eric easily up into his arms. He adds, almost under his breath, “Believe me, I understand the feeling.”

The boy holds Jean’s neck in what looks like a death grip while Jean moves into the kitchen and busies himself one-handedly unpacking a lunch box decorated with spaceships. He dumps several dirty containers on top of the pile of other dishes in the sink, then repacks fresh cereal into a clean container, and sticks it in an outer pocket of the backpack. He also stuffs some clean diapers into the bag, easily rummaging around one-handed. 

Jean’s back is to Eren, so Eric is facing him over Jean’s shoulder. Eric pops several fingers in his mouth, sucking hard as he continues to stare unnervingly at Eren with his huge green eyes. 

“He doesn’t like me much, does he?”

“Apparently not,” answers Jean.

“Ouch!” says Eren. He knows this isn’t personal. After all, why would the kid be expected to like a stranger he had just met? It still hurts to hear Jean say it so bluntly. “That’s cold.”

“Eren.” Jean sighs. He turned around, sliding his free arm around Eric’s waist, so that Eric is held in a net of Jean’s arms. “Eric’s bedtime is at 7:30. I’ll have time to talk after that if you want to come back then.”

Eren doesn’t quite trust Jean to let him into the building again. And it is too important to talk to Jean today, before he slips through Eren’s fingers and disappears again. “Can I wait here?” he asks.

Jean sighs again. But all he says is, “If you like.”

“Can I… help?”

“Nah, that’s OK,” answers Jean absently. He moves awkwardly around Eren, to hang the now re-stocked backpack on a hook by the front door.

“Are you sure?” asks Eren. “I could clean up, if you want. It’s kind of… messy in here.”

Jean’s eyes narrow. “Yeah. You know what? You _can_ help,” he says shortly. “Eric and I are going to head out to the park. Why don’t you stay here? You can do the dishes, put away the laundry, sweep the floor, and cook the mac and cheese. How does that sound?” He’s clearly insulted.

“I can do that,” says Eren, taken aback. He hadn’t meant to be insulting. After all, it’s pretty obvious that the apartment is in disarray, to say the least. Frank chaos would not even be pushing it. Jean looks surprised, as though he didn’t expect Eren to agree so readily, or even at all.

“OK, then,” Jean says brightly. “We’ll be back at 6:30. If you leave before then, make sure to lock the door from the inside, and shut it tight on your way out.” Jean slams a box of mac and cheese on the counter next to the stove. He grabs the backpack off its hook, and swings hastily out the door.

When Eren hears the key in the lock, he is just placing the last of the clean dishes away in the cabinet. He is proud of his handiwork- not bad for an hour of hard labor. The apartment has been transformed. The dishes are washed and put away. The trucks are neatly stowed in their bin, the library books stacked on top of the small bookcase. Even the high chair tray has been scrubbed clean. Eren hadn’t thought the crusted-over blobs were going to come out, but they did. And Eren is particularly proud of the piece de resistance: a heavenly aroma is rising from a pot bubbling on the stove.

“Whoa!” says Jean. “Am I dreaming? When did you turn into the bloody Good Fairy?”

“I’ve always been the Good Fairy,” says Eren, waggling his eyebrows.

Jean shakes his head, but his lips twitch. 

“Can we talk now?” Eren asks, hoping for some sort of reward for producing the miracle of a tidy apartment.  


“Eric needs a bath and story time. I told you, he’s usually asleep by 7:30, if you want to wait.”

“I’ll wait,” says Eren. He adds, confessing, “I just had one small mishap.”

Jean looks automatically to the small kitchen window.

“You opened the fucking window,” he mutters under his breath.

“How was I to know it would fall out?”

“OK, here’s the key. Go down and get it.”

Eren goes downstairs and lugs the plastic window back up the stairs.

“Why don’t you get the landlord to fix it?” he asks.

“Are you kidding?” snorts Jean. “I never talk to the landlord. I don’t want him to raise the rent.”

Jean awkwardly holds the window up to the frame. The window is bent, so clearly it will no longer fit in the rectangular frame. But Jean holds it up and kind of presses it in, muttering to it as if he can cajole it into changing shape. His task is made more difficult by the fact that Eric is again clinging tightly to his leg.

“It’s not going to fit,” says Eren.

“Yes, it’s going to fit. I can _always_ make it fit.”

Sure enough, three minutes later, Jean is sweaty and panting, but the window is back in its frame and locked tightly into place.

“Hey kiddo, let’s wash our hands, OK?” says Jean to Eric, holding him up to the sink. He then snaps him into the high chair and places an enormous plastic bib on him.

“Mac and cheese for dinner, Eric!” he says, and the child’s face lights up.

“Ackanee!” he booms gleefully.

Eren can’t help grinning at the fucking massive excitement mac and cheese is generating in this kid. It’s like mac and cheese is a toy store, a candy store, and a playground all rolled into one.

Jean, noticing, says drily, “Mac and cheese never gets old. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, right Eric?”

“Ackanee!” repeats Eric, whacking his spoon on his tray for emphasis.

Eren sits down at the small table, feeling awkward in the tiny kitchen. His legs keep getting in Jean’s way, no matter how hard he tries to tuck them under his chair.

The reason for the bib quickly became clear. It is a little disappointing for Eren to find that all his hard work essentially disappears in the face of a new onslaught from Eric. The high chair is soon back in its prior sorry state, and the floor is dotted with little blobs of mac and cheese. Jean feebly wipes at them with a sponge. But Eren can maybe see why Jean doesn’t spend too much time cleaning. He probably wants to expend his energy producing results that last longer than twenty minutes.

When Eric is done painting the kitchen with pasta and cheese, Jean unsnaps the high chair. “Bath time, kiddo,” he says. Eren’s not sure why, but he offers to tidy up again. By the time he has the floor and high chair in reasonable shape again and the table set for two with Jean’s mismatched dinnerware, Eric is done with his bath. 

Eren is amazed. Post-bath, Eric looks like a completely different child. Gone are the bits of pasta that were ground into his hair. His skin is several shades lighter, and his wet hair lies almost black against his round head. He is wearing one-piece pajamas which have a repeating pattern of monkeys on them.

“His tribe?” asks Eren.

“You better believe it,” answers Jean.

Eren catches the sweet, fresh baby smell of Eric as he toddles past, his diaper butt waddling comically.

“Three stories, pumpkin,” Jean says, holding up three fingers. “Say goodnight to Eren.”

Eric glances at Eren, his brow furrowed, but doesn’t say anything, too intent on grabbing books. This upsets the neat pile Eren had made, scattering the remaining books across the floor.

“I’ll be out in about 10 minutes,” Jean whispers to Eren, slipping on his glasses.

Eren bends down to stack the books again, then stands up, stretching his back. He is almost tingling with the anticipation of talking to Jean, getting some answers. He walks quietly towards the bedroom and the murmuring voice. Peeking around the half-open door, he looks around the room. There is a large bed against one wall; he is somewhat shocked to recognize it as the same bed he used to sleep in with Jean. A crib is stuffed halfway into the closet, and there are several bookcases full of books.

Jean is sitting in a thickly padded rocking chair, wedged so tightly into a corner that it can’t possibly rock. Like everything else in the apartment, it is shabby, with the upholstery completed rubbed off in spots. Eric is sprawled across Jean’s lap, lazily sucking on his fingers. Jean, glasses perched on his noise, is reading in a low voice. 

“One little train is a… ”

There is something hypnotic about the rhythm of the story, and for a moment Eren feels like Jean’s soft voice is casting a spell in the crowded, dimly lit room. Eric’s eyes keep dropping and then jolting open again with each turn of the page. It’s as though Jean and Eric are inside their own bubble, and Eren is outside, in the dark, peering in. An image comes into Eren’s mind, of a starving person staring through a restaurant window at people inside who are feasting on delicious treats.

Jean gently closes the book. He carefully heaves Eric up, the little body slack, eyes half closed, and lays him down in his bed. He bends down, caressing the boy’s head, murmuring, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Jean starts when he sees Eren in the doorway, but hastily shoos him out.

As soon as they are out of the room and Jean has noiselessly closed it behind them, Eren says, “Jean-“

Jean frantically throws a hand over Eren’s mouth. Leaning into Eren’s ear, he breathes, “Shut the fuck up! If he doesn’t fall asleep now, he’ll be up for fucking _hours_.” The feel of Jean’s hand on his mouth, Jean’s breath tickling his ear, so soon after the scene in the bedroom, unnerves Eren. He nods mutely to show that he understands.

They sit quietly on the couch together. Jean pulls out a notebook filled with papers, and starts reading through them, making small notes in the margins. Eren holds his phone in front of him and pretends to type, as though he’s sending important messages. In reality, he’s staring blindly into space, an uncomfortable medley of thoughts and feelings washing through him. About fifteen minutes later, Jean tiptoes over to the bedroom door and leans against it. Whatever he hears seems to satisfy him, and he says, in a quiet voice, “Whew, I think we’re safe.”

Now that Jean's attention is focused wholly on him, Eren feels suddenly nervous. 

Jean, however, has calmed down. “Thank you for cleaning up,” he says in a relaxed voice. “I think that’s the cleanest that kitchen has been, ever. At least since I’ve lived here. And for dinner. It smells so much better than mac and cheese.”

Eren looks up at Jean in alarm. “You’re joking, right? You don’t really eat that crap?”

“Of course I do,” says Jean, without a trace of embarrassment. “You think I’m going to cook two dinners? And who doesn’t like mac and cheese? When did you learn to cook, by the way?” Jean had always done the cooking, back when they were together.

“Actually, I ordered a delivery. I just put it on the stove to keep it warm,” Eren confesses.

“Well, it smells fantastic,” says Jean, as they sit down at the table. He helps himself to a huge serving and digs in like a starving man; or, perhaps, like a man subjected to an endless parade of mac and cheese who is finally sitting down to a proper meal.

They eat in silence. Or, rather, Jean eats. Eren picks at his food, his nervousness growing exponentially. Jean is plainly content to indefinitely avoid the elephant in the room.

Eventually, Eren blurts out, “Am I Eric’s father?”

Jean swallows and sits back in his chair. He takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes. He looks very tired.

“Well, I don’t know,” he finally answers. “Does he share your genetic material? Yes.” Eren sits bolt upright in his chair. Of course, he knew this from the moment he saw Eric’s face. Eric looks exactly like Eren’s baby pictures. But receiving verbal confirmation somehow makes it all the more real.

Jean continues. “But are you his father? That’s an altogether different question, don’t you think?” He’s speaking in a calm voice, but it is very controlled, as though Jean is holding back from saying something he might later regret.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about him?” Eren can’t help saying. That odd feeling of Jean and Eric being in their own little bubble, while he himself is outside, alone, has stuck with him, and he doesn’t like it.

Jean’s eyes narrow, but all he says is, “Look, Eren. I appreciate the help today. Really, it was a godsend, and it’s so nice to have everything be tidy. But Eric had his vaccinations a few days ago, and that really upset his sleep schedule. He’s been waking up at 2 in the morning almost every day since, and I’ve got to get to bed. I know I said we could talk, but I’m completely beat. Can we schedule another time?”

Eren tamps down the desire to lean in, push on Jean for more answers _right now_. It’s obvious that Jean is telling the truth, he’s almost grey with exhaustion, and the request is a reasonable one. 

“Ok,” he says. There’s a lot for him to take in, anyway. It would probably be a good idea to sleep on it. “Ok. Fair enough. How about tomorrow evening?”  
Jean makes a great show of getting up to look at his calendar. Jean is like a dinosaur and still keeps a written calendar.

“What else are you going to be doing? Having a date at the park with 20 other toddlers?”

  
“As it so happens,” says Jean frostily. “We have a very busy schedule. But, yes, we will be here tomorrow evening.”

“I’m bringing dinner again,” says Eren. “No way am I suffering through a night of mac and cheese.”

“Tomorrow’s chicken nugget night,” says Jean.

Eren makes a gagging noise.

As he leaves the apartment, Eren can hear Jean click the lock shut behind him, sealing him outside; Eren finds the noise irritating. 

Eren isn’t quite sure if Jean and Eric will really be there when he hits the doorbell the next day. Maybe the entire sequence of events was a hallucination? But Jean buzzes him in, and soon he’s walking up the stairs to the apartment.

Unfortunately, he is walking in on what is evidently a monumental tragedy. Eric is on the floor, bawling his eyes out, inconsolable, drumming his feet wildly against the wall.

“Uuuck,” screeches Eric.

Eren doesn’t understand how such a small person can possibly make so much noise.

“He’s a loud little bugger,” he says, wincing slightly. “What happened?”

Somehow, Jean can hear Eren above the screaming.

“His truck broke,” says Jean shortly. “Can you stay with him while I run out and buy some glue? He’s in no shape for a trip to the store.”

“Umm,” says Eren doubtfully, eyeing the screaming banshee writhing around on the ground. “Wait a minute!” He snaps his fingers. “I might have some glue in my car! I’ll be right back.”

He dashes back up the stairs, glue in hand, feeling like Superman.

When he gets back inside, Eric is still in the same position.

“See, Eric,” says Jean loudly. “Eren has glue. He can fix your truck.”

“Don’t make any promises, man,” says Eren nervously. “I haven’t even seen it yet.”

But somehow, Jean’s words have penetrated Eric’s tantrum, and the wails decrease slightly in intensity.

Jean holds out the truck and the broken off wheel.

Eren breathes a sigh of relief. “I can definitely fix this,” he says loudly. “Yeah, I’m going to pop this sucker back on, give it a little glue, and it’s going to be as good as new.” He doesn’t look at Eric when he speaks, but he can tell Eric is listening; the volume is most definitely decreasing.

“Eren’s going to take the truck to the truck hospital, Eric,” says Jean firmly.

Eric’s body relaxes, and he is no longer kicking the wall. He allows Jean to pick him up and hold him.

It turns out to be industrial strength glue, so they all troop outside to the truck hospital, on account of the possible fumes. They are settled down in the small strip of grass that surrounds the apartment building, and Eren gets to work. He chatters on, explaining everything as he’s doing it, not specifically to Eric, but loud enough that Eric can hear him. Eric is mesmerized at the sight of his truck in the truck hospital.

“Let’s see, we’re gonna take this little piece here, let’s wipe it off, make sure the glue’s gonna stick. Now, you better move back a bit, we don’t want you breathing in any of this junk. Yeah, that’s good. Now, the tiniest layer here.” Eren is just wiping off the extra glue with a paper towel, when Eric reaches out a hand to touch.

Eren pulls back. “Sorry, kiddo, no touching. This truck is in the operating room right now. There. All done. Now, when you wake up in the morning, your truck is going to be as good as new, okay?”

Eric’s brow is furrowed. Eren is not sure he understands. But he doesn’t start crying again. 

“Thank you, Eren,” says Jean.

“En-en,” croaks Eric. Eren grins at him.

After Eric is asleep, and after dinner, they collapse onto the couch.

“Those tantrums are fucking exhausting,” admits Jean.

Eren feels sorry for Jean, but not sorry enough that he doesn’t want the information he was promised. He’s let Jean finish dinner in peace, and it’s his time, now. He stares meaningfully into Jean’s face.

Jean turns to him, sighs.

“OK, yeah, I know, I know. It’s just… Do you remember the clinical trial?”

  
Eren nods slowly. Of course he remembers the clinical trial. After all, it’s what ultimately led to their breakup. After three years together, Jean had wanted to move forward with Eren, settle down, start a family. He really wanted kids. Eren wasn’t ready for that. He liked traveling, going out, having a good time. But he agreed to go to all the meetings with Jean, do all the blood tests. When Jean found out that they had passed the screening tests, that neither of them had any of the antibodies against the viral vector, that Jean would likely be receptive to the drugs, Jean had been so happy. But Eren hadn’t been happy at all. He had been angry. He wasn’t ready for any of that. He had felt bulldozed and trapped. 

So Eren… left. He wasn’t particularly proud of the way he had done it. He had packed his things when Jean was at work, called him during lunch, and told him he was leaving. He had felt such an overwhelming urge to _escape._

“Well, when you left, I was so upset, so sad and angry.” Jean is speaking in an even tone. Eren blushes, and opens his mouth to apologize, to defend himself. It’s as if Jean hears this thought, though, because he adds, “I know you were up-front about not wanting to start a family, but I don’t think I could even hear you, I was so set on it myself. Now I can understand why you freaked out, but I didn’t get it back then.” Eren shuts his mouth. Jean isn’t looking for apologies, he’s too busy explaining. Eren realizes that what Jean is saying has been inside him for a while, just sitting there, waiting for the chance to come out.

“Anyway, by that point, I wasn’t thinking straight. I enrolled in the trial anyway, as a single parent. They weren’t going to let me do it, but it wasn’t part of their exclusion criteria, and I had just enough money saved so I could extend the paternity leave. My mom agreed to be the support person. She wasn’t happy about it, but I finally convinced her. I talked everyone into it- myself, the study investigators, my mom. Everyone except you.” 

“It was so dumb. In retrospect, I had no idea what I was getting into. I started in on the trial drugs, and that didn’t really help me gain any kind of perspective. I even had a donor picked out. Tall, married, with kids, an accountant...” He adds, ironically, “Everything you weren’t, I guess. My idiotic attempt at revenge.” His lips twist into a self-mocking smile. Again, Eren opens his mouth. But Jean keeps right on talking, so Eren doesn’t speak.

“Moving through the process sobered me up a bit, though, and I started to have second thoughts. The next phase of the study was about to start, the phase where pregnancy could actually occur. I delayed starting any of those medications. I was about to withdraw from the study, even. And then the Christmas party happened.” Jean’s fingers start tapping on the table. _Tap tap… tap tap._

Eren draws in a breath. The Christmas party. Their friends had invited both of them. Jean had clearly been shocked and angry to see Eren, had pointedly avoided him. But Jean had looked particularly beautiful that night, his hair shining in the soft light, his face glowing. Eren even remembers the clothes Jean had been wearing, how it looked as though Jean had been poured into them. There was plenty of alcohol at the party, and they had ended up back at Eren’s place. He remembers Jean, warm and eager beneath him, while Eren panted into his ear, “I love you, Jean.”

He also remembers waking up the next morning, his arm across Jean, and Jean saying savagely, “Get the fuck off me, Jaeger.” Jean had stomped out of Eren’s place, still buttoning his shimmery black shirt. _What’s up his ass?_ Eren remembers thinking; and he clearly remembers laughing to himself, because he had known exactly what was up Jean’s ass, or at least what had only very recently been up it. He had been so sure that after he had poured his heart out, Jean would see that he belonged with Eren, that they were so good together, that they didn’t need anything else, like a kid. When Jean didn’t come back, didn’t even get in touch, Eren was too pissed off to make a move himself. _I’m not going to chase that bastard._

Jean’s fingers are still tapping. _Tap- tap_. “When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t believe it. The doctors couldn’t either- I wasn’t even on the right cocktail yet. But the baby seemed healthy enough, and I couldn’t bring myself to… end it. They allowed me to continue on the study, even though they called it a ‘serious protocol violation.’ They pay for the pregnancy and child-related care now, the stuff that’s not covered by my insurance. They’ll keep doing that through year five, which is an incredible help. We have to go for visits every month, which is kind of a pain, but Eric has been perfectly healthy, thank God. They even hooked me up with a fund that provides additional financial support, so I can keep working part-time instead of full-time.”

“Wh-why didn’t you at least call- try to get in touch?” stutters Eren.

  
_Tap-tap_.“That’s the thing- I _did_ call.” Jean glances at Eren. “Christ, you don’t even remember. You were probably drunk. I called once, right before Eric was born. I was at the hospital, having a few contractions. But I could tell you were at a party somewhere, maybe even with someone. I could hear the giggling. And I couldn’t do it. Anyway, you had made it clear you weren’t interested in kids, and _you_ hadn’t signed up for the study, so it wasn’t really your problem, was it?”

A memory flashes into Eren’s mind. He _had_ been drunk, and there had been someone, he couldn’t even remember who it was anymore, just the feel of the guy’s mouth on his skin while he held the phone to his ear. Eren remembers thinking, _too little, too late_ , and Jean’s voice was so serious, and what was he supposed to do, drop everything and fall into Jean’s arms, when he had a hot guy right in front of him at that very moment?

Jean talks a little more, about Eric as a baby. Once Jean is done talking, Eren finds he doesn’t know what to say. They sit together in silence for a bit, then Eren gets up to leave. “Can I come visit again?” is all he asks.

“Sure,” says Jean.

It’s a few weeks later, and Eren has now been over to Jean’s place enough times that he’s starting to feel comfortable. He slings the takeout bag onto the counter.

“Oooh, what’d you bring?” asks Jean, excitedly.

“Chinese,” says Eren. Jean starts opening up the containers.

“Sesame chicken, green beans with garlic sauce. Shit, Eren,” Jean mutters. “It’s like manna from heaven.” He’s practically drooling into the bag.

If Eren knew Jean was such a junkie for Chinese food takeout, he would have started bringing it home years ago. But it always seemed like Jean wanted to cook, before.

“Enough quarters downstairs for the dryer?” asks Eren. Jean does laundry almost every evening using the industrial machines in the basement.

Jean nods, “Thanks, man.”

When he gets back upstairs, there’s still a bit of time before Eric’s bath.

“Can I… read to him?” asks Eren.

Jean shrugs. “Ask Eric; it’s up to him.”

Feeling unaccountably nervous, like he’s going on a job interview, Eren picks up a book from the library pile and sits on the couch. He waves the book invitingly in the air. “What do you think, kiddo? Want to give it a whirl?”

  
Eric doesn’t move from Jean’s side.

Eren opens up the book and starts to read, holding the pages up so Eric can see the pictures. He feels like he’s on stage, as both Jean and Eric stare at him, but he plows ahead. As he turns the pages, he sees out of the corner of his eye that Eric is listening intently. Eren starts to get into the story a little more, making up voices for the characters: the horse has a deep voice with little added-in neighing sounds; and the cat’s voice is low and silky. He is ridiculously pleased when Eric takes a few steps his way and leans cautiously against the armrest. Eren turns the book around so it is facing both of them and settles back into the couch, relaxing into the story. He’s impressed with himself that he doesn’t miss a beat when Eric heaves himself up onto the couch and snuggles into his side.

He glances over at Jean, his eyebrows raised in a proud “check it out” gesture, to find Jean staring at the two of them with an odd expression on his face, one Eren can’t quite decipher. Eren winks at Jean, grinning victoriously, and goes right back to the story.

“Here,” said Jean, giving Eren a key. "That way you can get in and out on your own.”

“Really?” asks Eren.

“Yeah,” says Jean. “You’re going to need it if you’re going to keep doing the laundry around here.”

Eren grins, and Jean smiles back. Eren is happy to see that Jean overall looks less shattered, more relaxed and happy than when Eren first ran into him.

  
They’ve finished up a major project at work; everyone is going out to celebrate later.

“We’re going to meet at Sal’s. They have the best sliders. You in, Eren?”  


“Um, not sure. I’ll text you later.”

“What’s up with you, man? You don’t come out with us anymore. Are you seeing someone or something?”

  
“Nah,” says Eren. “Just tired, I guess.” After all, he had been at work since 5:30 that morning, trying to make it by the deadline. “I’ll probably come. I’ll text you later.” The truth is, Eren is hoping he can run over to Jean’s tonight, maybe see if Jean is up for watching a movie together.

Eren dials Jean’s number. Jean picks up on the first ring.

“Eren?” he says in surprise. “I’m so glad you called.” Eren’s heart lifts. He’s already thinking of what to pick up for dinner.

But Jean has his own agenda. He says, “This may be a bit awkward. But… I… kind of have a…. a date tonight, and the babysitter just cancelled at the last minute. My mom’s out of town, and… any chance you could… hang with Eric this evening?”

  
Eren’s stomach drops precipitously. Jean, going on a date? Thank God he hadn’t asked to come over before Jean started talking. It becomes an immediate priority that Jean does not find out that Eren was hoping to watch a movie with him. He keeps his voice even and says, “Yeah, I think so. Yeah, I could do that. What time?”

  
“If you could get here around 6:30, so Eric can see you before I leave? And stay until about twelve?”

.

“I think he’s asleep!” whispers Eren, inordinately pleased with himself. He did it! He has successfully tamed the wild beast! The wild beast that is now snoozing away in his crib.

He stops in his tracks when he catches sight of Jean. Jean’s hair is still wet from the shower, and the small silver hoop in his left ear is just barely visible. Eren draws in a sharp breath when he realizes that Jean is wearing The Christmas Party Shirt. And is that _eyeliner_? Eren’s heart thumps painfully. Jean is so very pretty. He has a strong urge to back Jean into the wall of this shitty little apartment and cover him with kisses. He has to actively restrain himself from reaching out to smooth the damp hair from Jean’s temple.

“What?” asks Jean nervously, “Does it look okay?”

“Yeah,” says Eren gruffly. “You look good,” He doesn’t say anything more. He’s not going to offer Jean any further encouragement for this date. He finds he has to avert his eyes from the painful sight of Jean dressed up for another man.

“He’ll be here any minute,” says Jean, restlessly. “You have the emergency numbers, right? You can call me anytime if anything happens, if Eric wakes up and he needs me.”

“We’ll be fine,” says Eren, then does a double take. “Wait- your date is picking you up _here_?” The last thing Eren wants is to see Jean’s date in the flesh. 

“Of course he’s picking me up here. He’s taking me out, you idiot!”

The buzzer rings. _Speak of the devil,_ thinks Eren, as he hears the heavy tread on the stairwell.

Jean opens the door, “Erwin,” he says. “Come in.”

Erwin is tall, taller even than Jean, and extremely well-built. He has chiseled features and icy blue eyes. He looks like all the other fraternity-brother-insider trading-douchebags Eren’s ever met in his life. He is also carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers- _roses_ even. _What a walking cliché_ , Eren thinks. But Jean is obviously falling for it, because he’s blushing and thanking Erwin profusely. He is even humming slightly as he takes the flowers into the kitchen.

With Jean gone, Erwin notices Eren on the couch. “New babysitter?” he murmurs in Jean’s direction. Jean comes running out of the kitchen.

“Oh- uh, no, sorry, this is Eren. Eren is… uh-”

“Eric’s other father,” Eren supplies helpfully, purposefully not rising politely from the couch to greet the new guest.

  
“Oh?” says the man, his huge eyebrows raised.

Jean shoots Eren a look, then quickly says to Erwin, “Don’t worry, we’re not together. The babysitter cancelled, and Eren’s doing me a big favor by watching Eric. Eren, this is Erwin Smith, one of the orthopedists in the practice.”

The man hesitates a moment. Eren can see the wheels turning in his brain: should he be polite to Eren, the father of Jean’s child, or should he give in to his natural instincts and be an asshole? Apparently, politeness wins, and he holds out his hand to shake Eren’s. _This guy must really want to get in Jean’s pants,_ Eren thinks to himself. This is immediately followed by the unhappy thought that _maybe he will._ Although he hopes the deterrent of a time constraint will be enough to prevent this.

“Nice to meet you, Eren,” Erwin says evenly. He raises his voice slightly so Jean can hear him loud and clear from the kitchen when he adds, “Thank you for allowing me to take this gorgeous man out for the best night of his life.” Jean comes back into the living room, blushing again.

“Ready, babe?” Erwn asks, pulling Jean in for a quick kiss on the lips. Eren scowls. The scowl deepens as Erwin’s hand hovers over Jean’s ass. “We better go. Reservations are for 8:15.”

“Let me just grab my shoes.” As he’s shutting the door behind them, Jean leans in, saying “Thanks a bunch, Eren, I'll be back around midnight!” He giggles softly and follows Erwin out into the hall.

Eren mopes around the small apartment. It’s pretty boring here without Jean, and with Eric asleep. He tries watching a movie, but turns it off halfway through. He’s not really in the mood. Although he probably should keep watching anyway, if only to distract himself from the image of Erwin’s disgustingly muscular hand, the same hand he apparently uses to slice open people’s flesh on the operating table, hovering over Jean’s ass. He knows he’s being unreasonable; he has no say in whose hand touches Jean’s ass. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

So much for the evening he had hoped for. He wishes he was at Sal’s instead. He lies down on the couch _\- might as well get some sleep_ \- but it is the most uncomfortable couch he has ever lain down on. No matter how he turns, there is always something hard spiking into his back.

He cautiously opens up the bedroom door and tiptoes to the crib. Eric is on his back, an arm thrown up, his head tilted to the side. He looks angelic, his dark hair framing his face, a little spit bubble blooming out of his mouth with each exhalation. Eren’s breath catches. He is filled with an indescribable tenderness for this small creature. 

He yawns hugely. Jean’s large, comfortable, bed is right next to him, invitingly unmade. Eren sits down on the side, then lets himself fall back into a pillow. The bed smells just as he remembers it, a combination of Jean’s laundry detergent and Jean. Before he knows it, he’s drifting off to sleep.

He wakes up to the feeling of something hitting his side. His eyes open, muzzily. It’s Jean in his shirt and boxers, standing next to the bed, knocking Eren’s side with his leg.

“Oh, sorry, man,” whispers Eren, dazedly. “Your couch is the worst. I had to get out of it before I was permanently crippled. I’ll leave now.” He starts to lift himself to a sitting position.” 

“That's okay, Eren. It's the middle of the night, you can sleep here. I”ll go to the couch.” 

“Are you kidding? You’ll be maimed for life.”

Jean pauses. “You’re right. Is it OK if I come in here too?”

  
“It’s your bed. Don’t worry. I’ll stay on my side.”

Jean messily strips off his shirt and clambers over Eren to the other side of the bed. He seems to pass out immediately. 

Eren rolls on his side, his back to Jean. He starts to drift off. He’s almost asleep again when he feels Jean snuggle up to his back and tuck his hands under Eren’s shirt, like he always used to do. Jean smells of cigarette smoke and sweat.

“Thanks, love,” Jean says sleepily.. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” He snakes a bare arm around Eren’s waist, squeezes lightly, and plants a kiss on the back of Eren’s neck. Before Eren can respond, he has rolled back over to his side of the bed.

Eren’s heart constricts. He knows these words aren’t for him, that Jean is thinking about his date. But all of the sudden he wishes, crazily, that they had never broken up, that _he_ , Eren, has given Jean the time of his life, and that Eric calls him Daddy, or Da, or even Papa, instead of En-en.

Eren wakes up to something wet touching his face.

“En-en?” rumbles a voice, extraordinarily loud for so early in the morning. He opens his eyes confusedly. Small fingers are patting his cheek. A pair of large green eyes is staring straight into his. Oh, right, he’s at Jean’s place. He has spent the night babysitting Jean’s son- _his_ son - _Eric._ He tries to sit up before he realizes that there is a weight across him. Jean’s arm is curled up over his chest. 

Carefully extricating himself from Jean, he swings his legs over.

“Daddy?” asks Eric.

Jean snores on, blissfully unaware.

“Daddy’s sleeping,” Eren whispers. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go have breakfast. Swinging Eric up into his arms, he flips on the fan to create some white noise, and quietly closes the door behind them. 

Luckily, there is a clean diaper and change of clothes in the backpack, and soon he has gotten Eric and himself dressed and made them both toast.

He scrawls a quick note for Jean, “At park- back at 10.” He’s been to the park a few times with Jean and Eric, but it’s kind of exciting to think of taking Eric there by himself.

He slathers some sunscreen on Eric’s face, grabs Eric’s hat, and makes his way down the stairs.

“Oh, hi,” says a woman, walking towards them. “My name is Emily. Eric and Liam are friends, at least when they’re not guarding their trucks from each other.” The woman is clearly a talker, and she chatters on as Eren follows Eric into the sandbox. “Are you babysitting for Eric? It’s so nice for Jean to have a break. He works so hard all the time. It’s not easy, being a single parent. I don’t honestly know how does it. He doesn’t get any support from Eric’s other father, so he does everything on his own.”

Eren feels himself turning slightly pink, and he pulls his baseball cap further down his forehead. He mumbles something, and is happy when Eric toddles away, leaving Emily and Liam in the sandbox.

Eric is apparently half-monkey. He wants to climb everything at the park, especially things made for children ages 5 to 12, as the sign screams in giant orange letters.

Tired of pulling Eren down from dangerously high ladder-like structures (what idiot built these death traps?), Eren finally plunks Eric into the swing. He can’t believe how much the kid likes swinging. And if Eren reaches in to pretend-grab Eric’s feet, he goes crazy-happy. Eren keeps doing it, because somehow even though Eren’s done it a million times already, it seems like every single time Eric finds it a surprise and screams with delighted laughter.

When Eren pulls him out of the swing, Eric’s diaper feels very heavy. He goes to change him before he remembers that there are no clean diapers left in the backpack. Jean must have forgotten to restock it in all the pre-date excitement. Ah well, perhaps they’ll just head home. Eric doesn’t want to leave. But Eren swings him up onto his shoulders and Eric laughs happily. Not afraid of heights, this kid. Probably due to being part monkey.

There is something very comfortable about having Eric on his shoulders, Eric’s hands wrapped around his head. That is, until he feels a certain wetness on his neck.

_Is that?_ he wonders. _No, it can’t be. Really?_ It is.  


He’s just finished changing Eric into clean clothes when Jean emerges from the bedroom, wearing an old T shirt and sweatpants.

“Thanks so much for letting me sleep in. I don’t remember the last time I slept past 7 in the morning.” Jean’s hair is sticking straight up in the back, and his face is puffy.

“Eric and I had a good time, didn’t we?”

Eric climbs into Jean’s lap.

  
“What do you want for breakfast?”

“You don’t need to babysit all night, take Eric to the park, and then make breakfast!” protests Jean, but he makes no move to get up.

“It _is_ pretty tiring,” says Eren. “All the more reason for you to take a break for once.”

“It’s nice to sit down,” admits Jean.

“How was your date?” asks Eren casually as he opens the fridge. He tries to sound as though he is asking out of politeness and doesn’t really care one way or the other.

“Ahhhh, okay,” says Jean noncommittally. He gets up after all, to put water in the kettle. When he’s near Eren, he sniffs, “What’s that smell?”

“Well, uhhh, I was carrying Eric on my shoulders, and… um...”

Jean laughs. He ducks into the bedroom and comes out with a clean shirt. “You might want to change.” Eren goes to pull off his shirt, and Jean bends down to kiss Eric’s head, averting his gaze from Eren’s torso. But Eren is pleased to see that Jean can’t resist a half-hidden glance upwards once the shirt is actually off.

“My parents want to meet Eric.” 

Jean freezes.

Eren sighs. “I know you don’t like them, but they should at least get to see him, don’t you think?”

“ _They_ don’t like _me_. But, OK. When?”

“Does Saturday work?”

  


“Hello Carla, Grisha,” says Jean, keeping his voice neutral. He needn’t have bothered. They only have eyes for Eric. Eric surprises Jean by going willingly with them into the back yard. They have bought a small plastic slide for him.

Jean looks up at Eren questioningly.

“I’ve been to the park with that kid,” is all Eren says.

Eric immediately climbs up the small staircase and slides down the mini slide. And does it again. And again. He’s like the energizer bunny, going round and round, laughing uproariously every time.

“Hey, I forgot,” says Eren. “I was gonna grab some of my old trucks from the attic. I’ll be right back.” 

Eric is having a grand time, and Carla and Grisha are doting on him.

“I need to use the bathroom,” says Jean, to no one in particular. He makes his way back into the house. He has only been at this house once before, for Thanksgiving. After that experience, he told Eren he would never go back, so he’s not sure where the bathroom is. It’s not off the kitchen, and he wanders into the foyer. Something catches his eye on the table by the front door. A large manilla envelope with his name printed on it. He’s not sure why, but his heart starts pounding.

The envelope is not sealed. Carefully opening it, he takes out a set of papers. He sees his name once, then again, and again. His eyes fly across the page with increasing horror.

“Mr. Jean Kirstein… Mr. Eren Jaeger… failure to inform…. paternal rights…. sue… joint custody. “

Jean drops the papers as if he’s been burned. He backs out of the foyer, almost running through the kitchen and into the back yard.

He doesn’t know how he manages to keep his voice calm as he says, “Very nice to see you, Carla, Grisha. My apologies. I forgot that Eric and I have something we need to take care of. I’m afraid we’ve got to head out now, right away. Say bye-bye, Eric.”

Eric doesn’t want to leave. He’s having a marvelous time with the slide.

“Do you really have to go so soon?” asks Carla in a disappointed voice. “He’s such a darling child. He looks almost exactly like Eren when he was young.”

Eren walks back down the stairs, carrying several trucks. They are a bit dusty, and he’s trying to wipe them down with his sleeve as he walks.

The yard is a lot quieter than it was when he left.

“Jean? Eric?”

  
“They left,” says Carla angrily.

“What?” asks Eren, bewildered. He had thought that things had been going really well. Eric had been relaxed and comfortable, and Jean had seemed fine. 

“He said he had something he had to take care of. Right after he came back from the bathroom.” Carla’s voice is thick with disappointment. “That’s what I’m telling you, darling, he shouldn’t have a right to keep your child away from you. Or from us.”

Eren runs back into the house. Is Jean really gone? He sees the papers on the floor by the front door. He picks them up. 

“ _What_ is _this_?” demands Eren. His voice is icy.

His mother has the grace to blush, but she holds her ground. “Something I had our lawyer draw up.”

“What have you _done_?”

“I haven’t done anything. But if _that boy_ thinks he has the right to keep our grandchild away from us, he has another thing coming. We’ve already missed out on too much of his childhood. Plus, we really don’t want him living in that dump you’ve described. It can’t be healthy for him. Your father agrees with me.”

Grisha nodded. “It’s true, Eren. He had no right to hide your son from you for so long.”

“What are you even talking about? You don’t know anything about it. What _Jean_ does is none of your business.” Eren’s eyes are blazing with fury. “I can’t believe I convinced him to let you meet Eric. You have no _fucking_ idea what you’ve done.”

Jean’s cell phone is ringing almost continuously, and at the first stop light he turns it off, flinging it away from him like it’s a venomous snake.

Jean isn’t sure how he makes it home in one piece. His hands are freezing, and the whole time he’s afraid he might even lose control of the steering wheel. But at last they pull into their parking space.

Eric has a very soggy diaper, but he has miraculously remained asleep despite Jean carrying him up the stairs. Jean carefully places him in his crib. His mind is whirling at 100 miles per hour. Joint custody? Lawsuit? He has no money to pay for a lawyer. Eren has been so kind lately, so helpful. Has he just been lulling Jean into a false sense of security, all the while working behind the scenes to snatch Eric away?

All Jean can do is curl up on the couch and shiver.

Twenty minutes later he is still on the couch. It’s as if he has turned to stone. Luckily, Eric has remained asleep. Jean’s not sure how he’s going to take care of him when he wakes up.

When a knock come on the door, he jumps.

“Open up,” says Eren. “Please?”

No way is Jean opening that door.

But of course Eren has his own key. The key that Jean has given him. What has Jean been thinking, letting Eren into their lives like that? He should have moved away the day Eren found them. But he won’t let Eren ruin everything again.

Eren opens the door and steps in. Jean leaps up to stand directly in front of him. Jean’s face is cold. “Get the fuck out of here,” he says. He shoves Eren, hard, towards the door.

“Jean! Stop!” Eren gasps. But Jean is beyond reason. He is pushing Eren as hard as he can out of the apartment.

Eren pushes back. He’s relieved to find that he’s still a little bit stronger than Jean. He slowly inches Jean back until they are both inside, then kicks the door shut. He keeps going until Jean falls back onto the couch, Eren on top of him.

“You’re not taking Eric away from me,” Jean says desperately.

“I’m not going to take Eric way from you, you idiot,” says Eren. “That was something my mother did on her own. I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it.”

Jean doesn’t seem to have heard him. He’s crying now, his face turned into the couch, “You’re not fucking taking Eric away from me.”

Eren hesitates, then gets off Jean, pulling him up into a sitting position. Jean feels himself fall into Eren, a boneless heap. He can’t seem to stop crying. He’s shaking with sobs, just like Eric in the middle of one of his tantrums. Eren holds him, rocking him gently on the couch.

“Shhhhh,” he says. “Of course I’m not going to take Eric away from you. You’re his dad, remember?”

“You’re n-n-not?” Jean gulps.

“Jeez, what kind of heartless prick do you think I am? I would never do something like that. Like I said, that was all my mom. Believe me, now she knows better than to try any shit like that ever again.”

Jean hiccups slightly. His face is red and swollen from all the crying. 

“The thing is…,” Eren hesitates. His hand is curled around the back of Jean’s neck, brushing the short, soft hairs there.

“The thing is, I _do_ want to get back together. I know I’m the one who left before. But I’m still in love with you, you know. It wasn’t just random that I ran into you outside that church. I tracked you down, followed you from work. It wasn’t so easy, either, since you had changed your number, moved, switched jobs. I even considered asking your mom. I missed you, Jean. I wanted to try to make it work again, even before I knew about Eric.”

  
There is a long silence. Then Jean’s voice starts up, low and scratchy. “Do you know how long I've wanted to hear you say those words? How many times I sat on this couch, alone, frightened, thinking, ‘If only Eren was here?’ And now, it’s – it’s too late, Eren. It’s too late for us.” 

“Do you- do you still have feelings for me?” Eren dares to ask. It feels like the most important question he’s ever asked.

“That- that doesn’t matter,” says Jean. “Eric has to come first, and I can’t- I can’t let any harm come to him.”

“You think I’m going to harm him?” Eren asks dully.

“I can’t get on that roller coaster again. With you or with your parents. I’ll always… care for you, Eren, I really will. I’m glad you’re in Eric’s life, and I- I’m incredibly grateful for all you’ve done for us, but that has to be it.”

Jean has finally stopped crying. Although he speaks softly, he’s glad to hear that his voice is firm. It would not be helpful to allow any uncertainty into the situation. Something splashes onto his cheek. At first he thinks his eyes have started leaking again, then he realizes that the liquid is coming from Eren. 

“Eren- are you-are you _crying_? Oh, shit!” That starts Jean up again.

“It’s Ok,” Eren says, in a husky voice. “I get it. I’m just… sad.”

They sit together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, tears mingling together. Jean feels a terrible, horrible emptiness. He knows there is no way to fill that emptiness. It will be with him for the rest of his life. But there’s something liberating about it, too. He’s no longer waiting for something to happen. He’s done waiting.

After that day, things are easier between Jean and Eren. Eren makes no move to try to win Jean over again, and they settle into a fairly relaxed routine. Their conversations are shorter, and all about Eric. Who will be watching him, what’s going on with him, his new words, what he’s eating these days, funny things he’s done. Eren picks up Eric every Tuesday from daycare, so Jean can stay later at work if he needs to. Although Jean remains the primary caretaker, he takes Eren’s opinion into consideration for any substantive matters related to Eric. Jean eventually relents and allows Eric to visit Carla and Grisha again, but Eren takes him, and it is understood by all that these are supervised visits.

“Hey, uh, could you watch Eric Wednesday evening?”

“Another date with Erwin, huh?”

“Nah, that didn’t work out.”

  
“Too bad,” says Eren lightly.

“Some of the people from work are going out for drinks, and maybe getting dinner. I thought I might go with them, get out a bit,” says Jean.

“Sure,” says Eren. “You should definitely go. I can watch Eric.”

It turns out that Jean’s colleagues catch drinks every Wednesday. It becomes a thing. Eren picks up Eric from daycare on Wednesdays, too, and stays with him while Jean goes out with his work buddies. Eren doesn’t comment, but he notices that as the weeks pass, Jean seems to come home a little earlier each time. Eventually, Jean skips the drinks altogether, and he and Eren have dinner at home together and watch a movie. 

Eren wakes up one Wednesday evening on that infernal couch, his head in Jean’s lap, Jean gently stroking his hair, a movie playing in front of them, and wonders what the hell he should do next.

One Tuesday when Eren goes to collect Eric from his daycare, he finds that someone is already there, strapping Eric efficiently into his stroller.

“Hello, Marion,” he says cautiously. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, Eren, how strange, Jean must have gotten his schedule mixed up.” This seems unlikely. Jean is meticulous about his schedule. They start to walk down the hall together, Marion’s heels clicking efficiently on the church floor. 

“Truck!” says Eric, holding the green truck solemnly out to Eren. 

Despite having admired this very same truck perhaps one hundred times previously, Eren whistles appreciatively. “That is one fine truck, Eric.”

Eric kicks his legs out in delight.

“It’s truly awesome, man,” said Eren.

“En-en,” says Eric, beaming up at him. 

“How come this is the first time I’ve had the pleasure of your company since you and Jean have reconnected, Eren?” asks Marion.

“I had no idea you considered my company a pleasure, Marion,” says Eren. He doesn’t feel a need to beat around the bush.

The older woman smiles in appreciation of his response. “You’ve grown on me,” she says. “In any case, it is not my opinion that matters. I want my son to be happy, and for some peculiar reason, he seems to have chosen you.”

“B--but Jean said-“ Eren stammers,

“Ah, Eren,” she interrupts, shaking her head at his apparent idiocy. ‘You have many faults, yes, that is true. However, I’ve never known you to be someone who gives up on something he wants."

Marion relinquishes her hold on the stroller. "I can see that little Eric is in excellent hands here. As it so happens, I have many other things to take care of today. But I will let you know that I will be available to take Eric to the park, shall we say, three Mondays from yesterday? Perhaps between 5 and 7pm? I myself find that solitude in an apartment can be very … stimulating. Well, au revoir, mon cheri. It’s a shame Jean can’t keep his schedule straight, but we have had the opportunity for such a nice chat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Eren can only stare at her, dumbfounded, as she neatly delivers this forceful kick to his ass.

She trots off, calling back over her shoulder, “And if you’re thinking of thanking me, let the record state that I would be very pleased to welcome a second grandchild into this world.”

Eren blushes.

“Where’s my mom?” asks Jean, confused.

“You must have mixed up the schedule,” mumbles Eren.

“Did I?” asks Jean. He rummages in his bag, pulls out his calendar, flips it open. “No, it says here, ‘Mom picking up Eric’. With the little check mark next to it indicating that she confirmed with me.”

The kitchen door is closed. As Jean moves to open it, Eren runs to block him. Unfortunately, he pushes a little too hard, and Jean, focused on his calendar, actually stumbles and falls down.

“What the fuck, Eren?” says Jean.

“Sorry!” cries Eren. He helps Jean back to his feet. “But don’t go in the kitchen.”

“Why not?” asks Jean. “Did you knock out the window again?”

  
“No, I didn’t knock out the window,” says Eren.

“Is something broken?” asks Jean.

“No, nothing's broken,” says Eren, getting a teensy bit frustrated.

“Let me into the kitchen then,”

“Not yet!” cries Eren desperately. 

Jean grabs the door handle and manages to open the door a bit, wedging his foot in to hold it open. Eren, not noticing, slams the door as hard as he can onto Jean’s foot, which is luckily still encased in Jean’s shoe.

“Ow! My foot! What the hell is going on, Eren?”

In dismay, Eren lets go of the kitchen door, and Jean wrenches it open. He looks around the kitchen in bewilderment. The kitchen window is safely shut and locked as usual. The table is set with a single candle. A white rose sits in a vase. 

“What’s this?” he asks, thoroughly perplexed. Eren realizes that the moment is slipping away from him. He hastily gets down on one knee.

“Jean,” he says, digging hurriedly into his pocket.

“What are you doing?” asks Jean. He spins around, knocking Eren off balance. Eren falls backward, crashing his head against the cabinet.

“Jean!”

  
“Sorry,” says Jean. “But why are you on the floor?”

Eren yanks out the box with the ring, slams it on the table, and says “Will you fucking marry me, asshole? I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

They are entwined on the couch. Eren is holding an ice pack to his head. Jean is sitting with his legs across Eren’s lap, kissing Eren's face, his ears, his neck. He is wearing the engagement ring, a slender band. It’s very plain, because Eren’s not into anything fluffy or fancy, but on the inside, for only Jean to see, is engraved an ornate, intertwined set of initials: EJE

Jean can’t stop kissing Eren, touching him.

“I knew I was going to get you back,” says Eren, his eyes gleaming. “I knew that night after visiting my parents, when you didn’t deny that you had feelings for me.”

  
“Then why did you cry?” murmurs Jean, between kisses.

“I could tell it was going to take forever, you stubborn bastard. Also,” he adds, in a quieter voice, “because you sounded so sad and empty.”

Jean’s hands curve around Eren’ neck, and he gently tips Eren’s face up to his. The ice pack slides off Eren's head. Jean melts into Eren in the old familiar way, but also a new way. His heart is juddering. He thought he knew Eren’s body as well as his own, but kissing Eren, touching him, after such a long time, and under these circumstances, feels new and exciting, like he’s entering uncharted waters.

Eren stops retracing his path to victory and instead focuses his burning eyes on Jean’s face, Jean’s body. He leans in to catch Jean’s mouth with his own. After that it’s only soft, panting gasps and light moans, until Eren breaks off to say, in a husky voice, “Your mom is keeping Eric at the park until 7. Lasagna’s in the oven. Would you rather take advantage of our solitude in the bedroom, or the kitchen?”

Eren can feel Jean’s heart beating rapidly in his chest. Jean opens up his mouth and laughs. He laughs so hard he starts crying. And Eren is wiping the tears away, kissing them away, kissing Jean’s laughing mouth, until Jean stops laughing and kisses Eren back in earnest.

A few minutes later, Eren groans, “On the _couch_?”


End file.
